Judith Jones Makes an Omelet for One (to Share)

Judith Jones, the cookbook editor best known for championing and publishing Julia Child's Mastering The Art of French Cooking, died yesterday in her home in Warren, Vermont. But her reach goes far beyond Julia. In the culinary realm, she brought us Lidia Bastianich and Edna Lewis — and long before then, she played a critical role in getting Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl into bookstores and homes.

Today we look back on a visit to Judith Jones' tiny, but functional, New York Kitchen.

The first thing that happens when you walk into Judith Jones' kitchen, umbrella-less and rain-soaked as I was one recent afternoon, is you get a thorough knees-down licking from her Havanese puppy, Mabon. Then Judith offers you a warm kitchen towel from the rung of her Garland stove to dry off. It's an unusual welcome.

For my part, the entrance was anything but graceful. I self-consciously hunched over my rain boots, slipping them off, not taking my gaze off all the details of the room, and toppled over. How could I not? My eyes, like saucers, were busy scanning the French copper pots; peg boards straight from Julia Child; the apothecary of beans, grains, and spices; and the industrial stove visibly etched with history.

It's a modestly sized room at the top of an apartment on Manhattan's Upper East Side, where one little lady and her fluffy white dog are living a piece of food history. It is all at once ordinary and remarkably unique.

Judith Jones is best known for her work as the editor of many of Julia Child's books, including Mastering the Art of French Cooking (Knopf, 1961). She worked at Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. from 1957 to 2011 until she retired from her Senior Editor and Vice President role. In addition to Child, Jones worked closely with other luminaries of the food world like James Beard, Marion Cunningham, Marcella Hazan, Madhur Jaffrey, Edna Lewis, Joan Nathan, and Claudia Roden. She is famous for rescuing The Diary of Anne Frank from the rejects pile. She was also John Updike's longtime editor. Judith was also an author, most recently of the cookbook, The Pleasures of Cooking for One (Knopf, 2009), written after her husband, Evan, died.

It's one of those great New York apartment stories. The kitchen hasn't changed much since 1970, when Judith and her husband Evan bought the co-op where Judith actually grew up and together they updated the space. They modeled the kitchen somewhat on Julia's kitchen, but also made it expressive of Judith and Evan as a cooking couple. They kept the tall cabinets that reflected the bygone-days design of a 1900s kitchen intended for relegated kitchen staff, but added extra counter space so they could stay out of each other's way. It is, above all things, practical.

I was hard-pressed to find much in Judith's kitchen that appeared to come from any of the catalogs that jam most of our mailboxes. Everything is heavy-duty and well-used without being fussy. Judith says what she resents about most home kitchens is that they cut corners. Cooking for one is no reason to skimp. When she was close to 90 years old, she was still sharpening all her carbon-steel knives.

After taking my hand and leading me through decades of memories, Judith snapped into action and said it was time to eat. We'd make a proper omelet. In the refrigerator she found green onions and mushrooms, stored in her trademark glass-jar method. "They last forever! Well, no, you don't want them to last forever."

We shared this simple plate of food — one plate, one fork — while Judith described to me one of many memorable meals she had in the kitchen. It was with Julia Child and Julia's husband, Paul. Judith remembered what a great baguette he made there. I wasn't sure if the tear in my eye came from the stories she told, or the fact that she was physically feeding me; a woman who never had children but is responsible for enriching the way millions of people experience one of the most deep (and I would argue maternal) joys possible: feeding someone.

As I wiped bits of omelet from the corner of my mouth, I looked down and realized that during my visit Mabon had chewed a hole in the bottom of my book bag, giving me a scrap book souvenir far more precious than any ticket stub or autograph. But the real memory was simply taking in this space, this living museum of food history, this humble kitchen where meals happen day after day, for whoever passes through, and whoever stays put.

Omelets

(Excerpted from The Pleasures of Cooking for One, by Judith Jones)

Don't let yourself be frightened at the prospect of making an omelet. The more you make, the easier it will be, and it only takes minutes to produce a seductive oval mound of yellow eggs wrapped around a filling that provides just the right complement. An omelet can make a whole meal and is a great receptacle for whatever little bits of things you've stored in your fridge. So I'll give only proportions and suggestions for various fillings, not specific directions for preparing each one. That way, you can use mine as guidelines to make your own. It is important to have a good nonstick omelet pan. Mine is 6 1/2 inches in diameter at the base and 8 inches across the top, the size I like for a two-egg omelet, and I reserve it for only that purpose. If you prefer a slightly thinner, more spread-out omelet, get a pan with an 8-inch bottom diameter.

If the filling you plan to use is cooked, either heat it up in the omelet pan with a little butter or olive oil and then turn it out onto a small dish and keep it in a warm spot, or heat it briefly in the microwave. If you're dealing with raw ingredients that need cooking, use a separate pan, and have everything cooked and ready to go as you start your omelet.

When you're ready, heat the butter in the omelet pan over medium-high heat. Meanwhile, quickly crack the eggs into a small bowl, season with a good pinch of salt and several grindings of pepper, and beat with a fork until the yolks and whites are just blended. The butter in the pan should be hot and sizzling, and as the large bubbles start to subside, you'll know you're ready to go. Pour the eggs in, and let them set for just 10 seconds.

With the flat of your fork against the bottom of the pan, vigorously move the mass of eggs all around. Let them set again for just another few seconds, and then with the tines of the fork pull the parts of the egg that have set around the rim toward the center, and tilt the pan slightly so that the uncooked, liquidy parts flow onto the bare spots and set. This whole process should take only about 1 minute. Now spoon the filling across the center of the eggs, and give the pan a very firm jerk or two, so that the egg mass at the far edge of the pan flips forward onto the filling (you can nudge it with a spatula if it needs help). Turn the omelet out onto a warm plate, letting the filled part settle on the plate first, and then tilt the pan further and flip the remaining, uncovered part over the top. And, voilá, you have a perfect omelet. And if it isn't quite perfection, tant pis. Only you will know — and it will taste delicious.

Omelet Filling Ideas

A few leftover cooked asparagus spears cut in quarters and warmed in butter.

Leftover cooked spinach or other greens, such as Swiss chard, turnip, or beet greens, warmed in a little olive oil.

One or two roasted or boiled small potatoes (particularly good with cooked leeks or artichoke hearts or sorrel).

Cheeses: A tablespoon of fresh cheese is always a nice complement to any of the above vegetables. Grated aged cheeses like cheddar, Gouda, Cantal, Parmigiano-Reggiano, or a Grana Padano (just look in your cheese bin and see what's there) are all yummy as an accent with other fillings. Mix and match as you please, or make just a pure cheese omelet, sprinkling some on top as well as using a generous amount as filling.

Meaty and fishy accents: Try a little shredded ham or prosciutto, cooked crumbled sausage, roughly chopped chicken livers, creamed chicken, or turkey. For fishy accents, if you have some leftover salmon, flake it and mix with some herbs or a little green sauce; shrimp and scallops, perked up the same way, are also good. Bland fish is disappointing, but smoked fish — salmon, trout, finnan haddie — all make a fine foil for eggs.